


The (It's Not Sex Pollen!) Powder of Prana

by CouldntBeDamned



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, First Time, Fuck Or Die, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Peter Parker is 18, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Size Kink, Stephen has Control Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CouldntBeDamned/pseuds/CouldntBeDamned
Summary: Stephen warns Peter to be careful while exploring the Sanctum.  Peter, naturally, doesn't listen.  The Power of Prana goes flying.  And now Stephen finds himself the only person Peter trusts to keep him from dying.  With sex.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Stephen Strange
Comments: 10
Kudos: 290





	The (It's Not Sex Pollen!) Powder of Prana

**The (It's Not Sex Pollen!) Powder of Prana**

* * *

Stephen warns Peter against messing with stuff in the Sanctum. And he's not warning Peter to be a dick or control him (okay, maybe a _little_ to control him because Stephen is unabashedly Type A and he has a need to be in control at all times and while he can't always do that because the Mystic Arts require surrender and vulnerability, he can at least maintain control in the rest of his life, including whatever his dynamic with Peter is), but because Spidey-Senses aside, Peter is ridiculously accident-prone.

So, of course, Peter doesn't listen.

It's the fucking Powder of Prana. Because of course it is. Why couldn't Peter have at least stumbled into the Vines of Vrinashnia? Why did it have to be the "It's not sex pollen, Stephen!" (as said in a long-suffering tone by Wong when Stephen had asked what it was) sex pollen?

("Really? Because powder that spikes your arousal and can only be neutralized by fucking someone else sounds an awful lot like sex pollen.")

"So, what happens now?" Peter asks, wrapped in a towel to dry off from the impromptu shower Stephen had portaled him into when he saw the violently green powder coating him.

Stephen looks him over - medically. He might be unreasonably attracted to the barely 18-year-old, but he's still a doctor. Peter's eyes are glazed, pupils blown. He's sweating, even with the cold shower he's just had. His pulse is racing and he's tenting the towel.

Fuck, why did he take it upon himself to take Peter under his wing in Stark's absence? Why did Stephen decide he was any kind of mentor or steadying presence for the boy? And why didn't Peter's senses go haywire at Stephen even offering?

"You came into contact with the Powder of Prana," Stephen explains. "The only remedy is to reach sexual completion with another person."

"I got hit with sex pollen?" Peter squeals. "It's actually a thing?"

"It's not sex pollen!" Wong chides from the doorway.

Without taking his eyes off Peter, Stephen waves Wong away.

"So, what happens now?" Peter repeats. "I have to have sex?"

"Yes," Stephen says bluntly. There's little point in sugar-coating it. "Is there anyone you need for me to contact? A girlfriend?"

Peter shakes his head. "MJ and I broke up after Beck tried to out me. Even after you reversed it, she didn't think she could handle me having a double-life."

"You need someone," Stephen insists. "I can ask if any of the apprentices at Kamar-Taj are willing to help. Many of them are quite open to sexual encounters."

Peter shakes his head, to Stephen's relief. The idea of anyone else touching Peter makes his stomach rebel. "I-I can't ask that of them," Peter says.

"You need someone, Peter. Within the next day, or this will kill you."

"Can you do it?" Peter asks after a long moment.

Stephen closes his eyes. "Peter, I really think-"

"Look, I'm really sorry about this, I am! But I trust you. I don't want to die!" His voice gets really quiet. "Not again."

Stephen's heart breaks, just a little. Peter's so young. ~~And so, so beautiful.~~ He'd known the boy was going to die, had lived as many lifetimes where he was spared in the Snap as he'd died. He'd seen Peter's last, terrified moments, where he'd died in Stark's arms, begging because he didn't want to go, finally saying "I'm sorry," as if any of it was his fault.

"If you really want, I'll take care of you," Stephen agrees. It's not as though anything else has been an option, if he's honest with himself.

"T-thank you," Peter says.

"Don't go thanking me just yet," Stephen cautions. _You may very well end up hating me, after this._ He flicks his hand and the door slams shut and locks.

"I uh, I haven't done this before," Peter (unnecessarily) tells Stephen.

"Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of you," Stephen repeats. He walks away, just a bit, starting to undress. "You can get on the bed."

Peter scrambles at that, as much as his lust-driven body will allow. 

Peter needs to be led; Stephen realizes. Leading, that Stephen can do.

"Lose the towel." Peter undoes the towel and drops it on the floor. Stephen, now naked himself, strolls over, picks it up, folds it, and sets it on a chair.

He turns to face Peter, and the boy's eyes go wide. He doesn't let himself smirk. He's pleased at the reaction, but this isn't about him.

"I need you to relax, Peter."

Peter nods, but his body is still tightly strung.

"Peter," Stephen says, grabbing lube from his nightstand's drawer. "Relax, it's going to be challenging enough to get you open."

"I'm trying, there's just so much else to focus on!" Peter whines.

 _Senses dialed to eleven_ , Stephen thinks.

"At least I enjoy a challenge," Stephen mutters to himself. He gets on the bed next to Peter, lube in hand. "Spread your legs for me."

Peter does one better, bringing them up for his arms to grasp. His cock, slim and average and a beautiful shade of red in his pollen-induced arousal, rests against his abdomen and his hole is as smooth and hairless as the rest of his body. _Twink_ , Stephen's mind unhelpfully supplies.

He coats his fingers. "If I hurt you, you need to tell me," he says seriously.

"I'll heal," Peter insists.

Displeased, Stephen slaps his exposed under-thigh. "You'll tell me," he instructs. Then his own cock hardens more at the moan Peter lets out at the slap. _Well, fuck._ This is going to ruin the pair of them, he just knows it.

He circles Peter's rim for a moment. "Have you at least played with this?" he asks.

Peter shakes his head. "No."

Stephen presses a finger in, lube aiding the invasion as Peter's hole gives just enough. Stephen adds more lube and begins to thrust lightly. He listens to Peter's moans and quiet little pleas for more. When _he_ thinks Peter's ready (and that's what he'll be going off of), he adds another finger, carefully spreading them and twisting. Peter's tight and it takes him a bit before he's comfortable adding a third. To give Peter _some_ sense that relief is coming, he brushes over the boy's prostate, prompting the loudest moan yet.

"Stephen, please," Peter begs. "C'mon, I'm ready!"

He's really not, though that's more to do with the situation than Stephen's actions. "Just hang on, I'm getting there."

Peter begs some more and Stephen figures now or never. He pulls his fingers free with a squelch and it's then he realizes that he doesn't have condoms. It's been a while since he's gotten off with anything but his left hand. _Fuck._

"Peter, I don't have anything," he says.

"What?" Peter's drifting further away.

"Protection, Peter. I don't have any."

"'s okay," Peter slurs out. "It's not like I can get sick with anything."

Peter's still holding his legs, Stephen realizes. He's still holding his legs up and apart and now his hole is wet and shiny with lube that Stephen's put there himself. Suddenly, the lack of a condom doesn't seem like such a big deal.

If anything, it turns him on. He'll be Peter's first, claim him in a way that no one else has. His mind races with thoughts that he could convince Peter that to be sure, they'll need to go again, all just so he can fill Peter even more...

(While he's claimed to be a great doctor and a great master of the mystic arts, he's never claimed to be a good man.)

"Stephen, please," Peter implores. "Please, I need you!"

He shakes himself out of his thoughts and slicks his ignored erection, stroking just a bit to take the edge off. Peter groans at the sight and Stephen sees his head fall back. Whether it's in anticipation or apprehension, he doesn't fucking care.

"You're going to be okay," he promises, guiding the head of his cock to Peter's exposed hole and pressing in. Even with the lube it takes some force behind it to pop the rim. He squeezes more of the lube onto his cock and with another reassurance to Peter, he thrusts his hips, unrelenting until he feels the slap of his balls against skin.

Peter's shaking, breathing heavily, and Stephen sees tears trailing down his cheeks. He can't worry about that, not when he's balls-deep in the barely legal twink of his fantasies and has the perfect excuse for why.

He starts to move, slowly, biting back a groan at how amazing his cock feels in the fucking vice grip that's Peter's ass. In and out, he strokes, releasing Peter's legs and resting them instead on his shoulders. Between them, Peter's cock is nearly purple with need and he reaches down to stroke it.

"H-harder," Peter begs through tears, unsure if he's referring to the hand job or how gentle Stephen's moving in and out of him.

"I don't think-"

"I can take it!" Peter insists, still crying.

Stephen drops his head, torn. Then he sees the slight bulge of his cock as he fucks Peter, and his mind's made up. "On your own head then," he all but snarls.

He pulls back, until only the tip remains inside the tight heat and then slams back in. He does it again and again, fucking into Peter as if he's the one who's been hit with the powder. Stephen vaguely registers the cries Peter's letting out, revels in them. He drives into the boy, the sound of skin slapping against skin almost as sweet.

Stephen is... _vicious_. It's the only word that can describe it as he uses the boy. He tightens his grip on Peter's leaking cock, twists a little too roughly as he strokes. It's not long before Peter is coming in hot, white spurts. But he doesn't let up, continues to stroke him even as Peter begs for him to stop.

He won't stop, not when he's doing exactly what Peter had begged him to do. By Stephen's hand, Peter comes twice more. The boy sobs as Stephen works him over, continues to plow into him, brushes against his prostate. Consumed, Stephen bites into the soft skin of Peter's pale neck, his clavicles, anywhere his teeth can each.

"T-too much," Peter says quietly in between great, shaking sobs.

"It's okay," Stephen manages to soothe. "We're almost there." _He's_ almost there.

"Please," Peter whimpers and then cries out, loud, when Stephen's cock hits his prostate dead on.

That does it for Stephen, he comes with a groan he didn't know he was capable of making and spills inside the boy, panting deeply as he his mind goes blissfully blank for the first time in - literally - millions of lifetimes. His orgasm seems to carry on for ages, his cock emptying into Peter with a flood of semen that feels like it's never going to stop.

He moves Peter's legs from his shoulders, unfolding the boy. Beneath him, Peter's still teary, eyes blown and glassy. His lips are red from where he's been worrying them. His stomach is coated in his own spend, sticky and drying. Peter is _wrecked_.

And he's alive. Even if Peter ends up hating him for this, he'll be okay knowing that Peter's not going to die.

It's long moments before Stephen has enough energy to pull free from Peter. With his absence comes his release dribbling out of the puffy red rim. Stephen forces himself not to stop it and push it back in. Peter lets out a little moan at the lack of pressure but he still hasn't said anything.

"Peter?" Stephen asks, cupping his face and pushing an errant sweat-soaked curl from his brow. "Are you with me?"

Peter only whimpers.

"Hey, I need you to focus," Stephen insists. "It's done, you're safe now. You're going to be okay." He gently checks Peter's pupils - still glassy - and his pulse - faster than normal, but slowing down. "It's all over now, Peter, and you were so brave."

It's still a few minutes before Peter can manage words. When he gets there, he says "thank you."

Stephen rests his forehead against Peter's , uncaring of the uncomfortable feeling in his neck. "Don't thank me," he orders quietly. "I was far too rough with you."

"No, it felt good," Peter says. "It felt really good." He sounds more like his usual self, finally. He stretches out under Stephen as best he can, prompting Stephen to roll onto his side. "Not dying is the best part, of course, but-" Peter waves an ineffective hand. "but I had no idea you could dick someone down that good."

Stephen can't stifle the horrified little laugh. "Peter-"

"I mean, I have nothing to compare it to. Scientifically speaking, one point does not a data set make. I'd have to repeat the experiment."

Something sick settles in Stephen's stomach at the thought of Peter with anyone else. "By all means."

"So really, the only solution is for us to do this again," Peter finishes, ignoring Stephen giving him _carte blanche_ to fuck other people. "Hopefully without the threat of death hanging over my head."

The smallest spring of hope is starting to well up in him. "If it's for science," Stephen allows. He doesn't want to come across as desperate, no matter how accurate that description is. Peter is so warm next to him and smells like sex, Stephen, and every good thing.

"For now." Peter sits up just enough to look at him. "After all, it's not every day you get hit with sex pollen and it ends up giving you almost everything you want."

"Tell me about it," Stephen says in agreement. Then he pauses. "What do you mean, 'almost' everything you want?"

Peter blushes. "I-I have this fantasy. It, um, it involves the desk in your o-office."

Stephen lets himself smile as he takes in the disheveled appearance of the boy next to him. "We'll have do something about that, after we double-check that the powder's out of your system."

"Double-check, huh?" Peter asks.

"One point does not a data set make." Stephen quips, leaning down to kiss Peter. Peter kisses him back, and Stephen knows they're going to be okay.

(END)

**Author's Note:**

> Because every ship deserves a sex pollen fic. Hope you enjoyed the one-shot!


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